Karkat x Reader - A reason to live
by e-bartkowiak
Summary: You come back to your house... House, but not home - your home is somewhere else, next to a troll who has never stepped into this house.


"I'm back," you said quietly, entering the small and shabby apartment where you lived. You'd never called it 'home'; your 'home' – the place where you wanted to come back and felt safe - was somewhere else.

In just a few steps you reached entrance to the living room and picture, which revealed in front of you wasn't different from what you had been seeing every single day, since you could remember. Your mother, still in her dirty waitress uniform, was lying on the ruined couch, soundly asleep. Lights from old TV - which played more statics, than actual sound - were causing your parent to look even older and more tired than she actually was.

You sighed and carefully, not to hit any of many bottles that were all over the floor, walked to the TV and turned it off. Then you started to collect bottles, trying to make as little noise as you could and taking them away to the kitchen - the only decent looking room in whole apartment, the only room where your mother wouldn't enter too often. It took you three courses to move all the bottles and, when you were finished, you walked to your still asleep parent. You grabbed the neck of the cheap gin bottle, which she had been showing more affection than ever shown toward you, and gently pulled it out of her grasp. Because it was only half empty, you put it on the floor next to couch, and then you attempted to lift your 'guardian'. Luckily, she was a small and slim woman, but still rather heavy for thirteen year old kid, so when you managed to move her limp body to her bed, you were out of breath.

"Little bitch," she murmured, not waking up from her drunken sleep and moving a little to find more comfortable position. You bit your lip as countless needles stung your heart. It hurt… It always hurt… Every time she insulted you it hurt more than any invectives or beatings you were gaining at school. Your eyes watered, but not even a single tear flew down your lightly purple cheeks. There was only one person you cried in front of, and it wasn't your mother.

You gently undressed your mother and tucked her in her old quilt. Then you took her uniform to the bathroom and put it into the washing machine. You sniffed yourself and frowned; yes, it was definitely time to wash your clothes. You undressed to your panties, hissing a little when fabric caught one of new scabs on your back, threw everything into the machine and set it on. You looked into the small mirror which was hanging above the sink. This almost naked person in front of you looked miserable: thin, sad face, dark circles under dim, [color] eyes, messy [color] hair… You frowned and turned your head a little. Yep, there was a gum in your hair. You sighed heavily and opened nearby locker, grabbed nail-scissors and simply cut your hair to free yourself from sticky substance. You could try to pull it out, but your hair already looked like disaster, so why should you care?

When you were done, you walked back to your 'room', the kitchen, opened one of the cupboards which held your small collection of clothes, chose something that looked rather decent and dressed yourself. Then you made yourself a sandwich with your favorite jam; you smiled sadly, that was one of few pleasures you had in your life. You sat on your beddings under the table and, munching slowly on your treat, you started to write down all homework your teachers had given you today, then – remembering everything you'd read in the library – you started to write down your answers.

Incredible memory was your biggest gift and curse at the same time. You had to hear or see something only once to remember it completely. Whenever it were your classes, shitty grins of your bullies, strange looks people were giving you whenever you looked like panda or loud cries of your drunk mother, before she started to beat you up, blaming you for her miserable life. Each memory was as vivid as if had happened just a moment earlier and only small amount of them could be labeled as 'happy'.

Soon, when you were done with your homework, you hid your notebook under your pillow and crawled from under the table. You looked outside the small window; the sky was slowly turning orange. You quickly, but quietly, checked on your mother, and after making sure she was still asleep, you dressed youself in an old, but warm, jacket and went outside the apartment.

You quickly walked down the paved road, fighting with the wind that tried to steal all of your warmth. As always, with each step you took, anxiety grew inside you. Will he come today? What would you do if something stopped him? How would you survive next day without seeing him?

You finally reached small playground. Just four kids, much younger than you, were playing there while their mothers were sitting on nearby bench. Swings, slide, sandbox, seesaws and monkey bars – everything was colorful and inviting, but the only thing you were looking at was dome with circular holes. You quickly approached it and looked through one of 'windows'.

"You're late, you asshat," grumbled a toll with baby-carrot looking horns and an angry frown, but beyond this cover of annoyance you saw a little bit of relief and happiness. You giggled shortly and jumped inside the dome, but you tripped and bumped into him.

"Watch your fucking step, dumbass!" he shouted at you, but carefully pulled you up from the ground, wrapping his arms around you in something that could be called an awkward hug. You smiled cheerfully, looking up at him. He was three yeas older than you and much taller because of that.

"I'm home, Karkat."


End file.
